It had been twenty-four years since I’d last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same. Old rotting floorboards that creaked and bent under my weight, threatening to give way, musty old curtains that fluttered slightly from the gentle breeze wafting in from the sea through the broken windows, cockroaches shuttling to and from their homes in the walls, and piles of mouse droppings in the corner, some fresh and some that had been there for days, maybe even weeks or months. The rancid smell drifting over from a mysterious lump on the ground that might have been a dead squirrel, and the flutter of wings from the rafters signaling multiple birds living up in the roof wasn’t even enough to stop the grin from spreading across my face. It was beautiful.
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I walked into the former foyer, and gingerly placed my overnight duffle bag onto the dusty floor. Placing my hands on my hips, I surveyed what was to be my new home. An old Victorian-Era house at the edge of the gorgeous Pacific Ocean, 100 miles away from San Francisco, that had belonged to my aging grandfather, before he passed away and left the house and its two acres of beachfront and forest to me. Out of twelve grandchildren, I had been surprised, to say the least, when I’d found out my favorite childhood place was being left to me. I was about to head up the old worn staircase to inspect the state of the second floor when my phone rang from inside my bag. I rummaged around my clothes and shoes and finally found it wedged between a book and some sweatpants.
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“Hey Liam,” I said, picking up the call. My younger brother’s voice came over the other end.
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“Hey, Elle. You at the house yet?”
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“Yeah, I just got in. It sure is crazy how the house has stayed almost the exact same since we were here over 2o years ago.” My brother chuckled, and I sandwiched the phone between my shoulder and my ear so I could pick up a couple of old paintings piled in the corner.
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“Well, I don’t envy your workload over the next couple of days. When are you heading back?”
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“Well, I’ll probably stay out here for a couple of days just to make sure that the cleaners don’t do anything I don’t want them to, then I’ll head back home.” I dusted the old photographs, studying the people pictured there. I couldn’t recognize any of them, so I put them onto the kitchen table, starting a need-to-be-donated pile.
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“So, I was thinking I’d come out too in a couple of days. I get a week’s break then, so maybe I could come to see you and the state of the house?” Liam asked.
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“Yes! That would be super fun. You should bring the girls too. They’d have a blast out here.” My nieces were six and four, the perfect little cuties that my brother and his wife had adopted after finding out they couldn’t have kids of their own. Liam laughed.
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“I’ll think about it.” Suddenly I heard knocking at the door.
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“Coming!” I yelled. “Hey, someone’s here. I’ll call you back later, ok?”
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“Sure, ok talk later, sis.”
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“Love ya!” I hung up the phone and walked over to the front door, pulling it open. The guy standing in front of me was as nerdy as a nerd could get. Thick glasses in front of blue-green eyes, tweed jacket under a vest even though it was almost 80 degrees outside, shaggy brown hair, and elbow patches. Elbow patches! I just stared at him until a hint of blush colored his cheeks and he nervously pushed his glasses up his nose.
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“Ms. Lockland?” He asked, his deep voice completely out of odds with his nerdy clothes. I blinked out of my stupor.
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“Yes, that’s me, Elle Lockland. Uh, come on in.” I opened the door wider and motioned him inside. He walked in and immediately stepped on a pile of mouse poop. We both grimaced at the squelching sound that told us that it was fresh. “Ah, yes. One of the many things about this house that needs to be fixed. Come on into the kitchen, we’ll wipe that shoe off.” I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bunch of rags that I assumed were once napkins and handed them to…wait I didn’t know his name. “Um, you didn’t introduce yourself,” I said, watching him scrape the mouse dung off his loafers.
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“Oh sorry, I’m Ryan Williams. The town historian.” I raised my eyebrows.
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“You get much experience in a town like this?” Ryan laughed shook his head.
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“Actually, more than I thought.” He finished cleaning his shoe and held up his dirtied rag.
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“Just throw it on the floor. Make the cleaners earn their money.” I deadpanned, waved my hand around the house. “So what are you here for, Ryan?” He held out his folder, which I hadn’t noticed him carrying, and opened it to show me an overview of the house with blueprints and pictures of random things.
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“Since your grandfather repurchased this house back in the ’50s, he’s kept in on a loan to the city, which means that anything you do to renovate or remove, I need to know and approve it.” I turned to him.
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“So, basically, I need your approval to do anything to the house?” He nodded. “Even remove the mouse shit?” He grimaced.
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“Um, let’s agree that that doesn’t count” I laughed.
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“Ok, but what if I want to buy off the house. As in not keep it on the cities loan anymore?” He looked pained.
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“The house has been paid for another fifty years in advance. You don’t have to pay anything, but that also means you can’t take it from the city technically.” Well. That was unexpected but honestly wasn’t that bad of a deal.
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“Well, should we take a look around?” Ryan nodded and closed up his folder, and we spent the rest of the day cataloging and grimacing at the work we’d have to do over the next few days.
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***
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“I’m starving!” I announced the next day around lunchtime after Ryan and I had been working all morning to remove the old things my grandfather had collected and hoarded for years. I was dusting old photographs, and after I’d almost choked to death for the hundredth time, I decided lunch was in order. Ryan looked over from where he was whacking a bunch of cockroaches out of their nests in the walls with a broomstick, shirt sleeves rolled up to show off his tanned arms.
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“How about I take-*grunt* you to -*grunt* lunch?” He continued to play cockroach wack-a-mole, stomping and whacking at the scurrying bugs.
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“Are you sure?” I called back, “You seem a little busy!” He laughed and gave the roaches another few whacks for good measure.
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“Burgers. My- *whack* treat.” He said, before putting the broomstick against the wall as the remaining few scurried among their dead comrades back into their homes. My stomach rumbled at his words and I smiled wryly.
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“You’re my new favorite person.” He smiled, and we cleaned up a little more, then walked down the staircase into the main living room. It actually looked somewhat liveable now, with the moldy curtains replaced with some beige ones that complimented the dove-gray walls we’d painted yesterday. The movers were still hauling across the country and were expected to reach here tomorrow morning, and after they came, the house would start looking a lot like a proper house. Ryan grabbed his jacket from the kitchen table, and we walked outside. I locked the front door behind us.
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The wrap-around porch was a dangerous thing, rotting floorboards that you had to make sure you avoided. It was a little like swamp-walking, where you had to jump from each dry area to dry area, to avoid sinking in the swampy marsh. Except, if you didn’t avoid the rotting boards, you’d fall about 10 feet to the ground below the deck. I wasn’t paying attention as I locked the door and turned around, and almost immediately cracked the board and my foot plunged into the hole. I gasped, the wood digging into my bare leg, and Ryan turned around, concern in his eyes.
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“You fell!” He said, running over to me, jumping over the rotten board that I’d unfortunately fallen victim to. I rolled my eyes.
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“Yes, Ryan. I fell into my death trap of a deck.” I gasped in pain as I shifted and the wood pressed deeper into my leg. Ryan put his arms under my armpits and hauled. I was surprised by his strength, even as I didn’t budge an inch. We tried that for a few minutes, to no avail. Finally, he sat down beside me, gasping a little.
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“What if I go down and push you up while you try to haul yourself out of there?” He asked, after catching his breath. I nodded. It was worth a try. He walked down the porch steps and ducked under the deck. I heard the crunch of mulch as he walked over to my stuck leg. I heard his small gasp as he put his hand under my shoe.
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“Is it that bad?” I called down.
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“Um, it’s not good.” He yelled back. I sighed.
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“Ok, you push up, and I’ll pull myself up,” I said.
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“Alright. Three-two-one!” He heaved my leg up, and I simultaneously pulled myself up, and with a searing pain through my leg, I popped free. I lay gasping on the deck, wiping the sweat off my face, as Ryan ran up to me. He sat down next to me, and I turned my head to survey his expression. He looked down at my leg with a grimace, and groaning, I propped myself up on my elbows. The broken wood had deeply gashed my upper thigh, blood, and wood pieces running down my leg. It wasn’t as bad as I had thought, and I cautiously stood up. Ryan helped me balance myself, and we walked over to his truck.
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He popped open the back door and pulled out his first-aid kit. I sat down on a log and stretched out my leg as he gently cleaned it up and wrapped a bandage over it. After he was finished, he and I just looked at each other and burst out laughing. What a day.
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Ryan helped me to my feet and, limping slightly I walked around to the passenger side. His truck was massive, and I had to climb up to get into the passenger seat. We drove into downtown San Marino, consisting of the main street that had a bunch of little stores and restaurants, and a couple of other side streets. It was so cute, from the eyes of a girl who grew up in a big city like Chicago, and I felt super happy to have inherited grandpas’ house. We parked in the main parking lot, and I got out of the truck, looking around at the small town while Ryan paid for parking. We walked over to a pizza place called Mall’s Burgers, which Ryan explained was affectionately named after Johann, the Ukrainian chef's, daughter.
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The bell dinged above the door as Ryan held the door open for me, and we walked in. Well, as I limped in and he walked in. Ryan immediately steered me over to the kitchen and pushed open the employee’s only door. The bustling sounds of a kitchen hard at work, and the chatter of waiters and waitresses washed over me, and I took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of garlic and onions and yummy food. Ryan led me over to Johann, a big jolly-faced man with wrinkles all over his face, who was standing in the middle of the room, waving a spatula and bellowing over the din of clattering utensils.
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“Johann!” Ryan called, and after Johann had given another cook a stern talking to over the use of garlic in bread dough, he turned to Ryan with a big grin across his face and yanked him into a big bear hug.
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“Hello, hello, Ryan! Very good to see you. You brought friend?” He let go of Ryan, who re-adjusted his glasses with a smile and stepped back. Johann gestured to me with the spatula, and I stepped forward, holding my hand out.
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“Elle Lockland, the new owner of my grandfather, Harold Lockland’s, house.” He ignored my outstretched hand, and pulled me into a big hug, squeezing the life out of me. I smiled as he let go. I immediately knew he was going to be one of my new best friends.
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“You here for lunch?” I nodded vigorously, my stomach letting out another growl at the enticing smells all around me. Johann laughed and snatched a burger from a passing waitress’s tray. He grabbed a plate and handed it to me. “You try, this is specialty I’ve been working on.” I looked over at Ryan and he just laughed. He walked back over to a big pot of soup simmering on the stove and started talking to Johann while the chef added some more ingredients to it. I eyed the burger that I’d got handed to me. It was stuffed with all sorts of yummy things; caramelized onions, leafy lettuce, juicy tomatoes, and rich ketchup dripping down the sides. It looked like heaven. I cautiously bit into it.
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“Oh mah gah.”
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“Are you all right, Elle?” Ryan called over his shoulder, his eyes dancing. I nodded, unable to speak around the best burger I’d ever tasted, east or west coast. I caught Johann’s eye and waved him back over. I ate another two bites in the few seconds he took to walk over to me. He raised an eyebrow at the mass destruction of his burger.
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“Well?”
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“This burger is so great, it’s ridiculous,” I burst out. “I’ve never, ever, eaten anything like this ever. I love you,” I said, stroking my burger as if it was a cat. I imagined it purring inside me and chomped down another two bites.
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“The burger or me?” Ryan laughed at my obvious piggishness. He could stuff it in his elbow patches for all I cared. This burger and I were soulmates.
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“I can no longer differentiate from either of them,” I mumbled around another bite.
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“I won’t tell anybody.” He laughed.
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“Alright, Elle, time to go.” Ryan placed his hands on my shoulder, waving goodbye at Johann, and steering me out of the kitchen as I continued to maul my burger. I tried to hand Johann some money, but he waved it away, jabbering about how it was my welcome to town gift. I smiled at yelled over the ruckus that I’d be back. He grinned and told me he counted on it. We walked over to his truck and climbed in. I took a napkin from the central console and wiped my mouth. “I take it you enjoyed that place?” Ryan asked wryly. I smiled at him.
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“It was wonderful,” I said, leaning back in my seat. “I’m glad I’m moving out here. I love this place.” Ryan smiled and started driving back to the house, soft music playing over the radio. I rolled my window down, and closed my eyes as the road wound along the coast, letting the sound of seagulls crying and waves crashing against the rocky shore wash over me and breathing in the salty air of the Pacific Ocean. Over 20 years had passed since I’d been to this area, but it was as if I was born here, how quickly I’d adapted to my new home.
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We pulled up to the house and stopped in the driveway. Ryan turned to me.
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“I’ve got some work to do in town, but I’ll be back later in the afternoon to help clean out the roaches.” We both smiled at the memory of both of us shrieking loudly and running down the stairs at the sight of the master tub covered in roaches. We hadn’t stepped back into the bathroom since.
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“Alrighty, see you later. Thank you for lunch!” I gave him an awkward hug over the console and stepped out of the car. I waved to Ryan as he pulled away down the driveway and watched as it disappeared around the bend. I limped up the stairs of the porch, glaring at the giant hole I’d made in the deck. Unlocking the door, I stepped inside and stood just inside the threshold, and looked around at the house. Afternoon light fell gently through the windows, leaving dustmotes that shimmered in the golden light. I surveyed my house, the half-finished first floor, the death trap of the wrap-around porch, the cockroaches in the walls, the mice in the basement, and the nerdy historian who wouldn’t leave my side, and smiled softly. I was home, and that was all that mattered.
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